


Little Soldier Boy

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)



Series: Whumptober 2020 [29]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Broken Bones, Castiel and Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Jack Kline's Parents, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Think I Need A Doctor, Injury, Jack Kline Whump, POV Jack Kline, Whump, Whumptober 2020, day 29, reluctant bedrest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27275986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61
Summary: Jack is badly hurt during a hunt, but he wants to be like his dads, and get back out there as soon as possible, a little too soon.
Series: Whumptober 2020 [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947223
Comments: 9
Kudos: 62
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Little Soldier Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober 2020  
> No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR  
> Reluctant Bedrest

Jack was carried into the bunker by Sam and Castiel, hardly aware of what was going on. He thought maybe Dean rushed in right behind them.

Maybe he was saying something, telling him he was going to be okay.

Jack doubted that. With the way he felt, he was sure he’d never be okay again. His foot moved just a bit too much, even with the makeshift splint. The motions left it throbbing, aching pain eviscerating his left leg all the way up to the hip. Jack had no idea if he was crying or not. Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t.

If he hadn’t been before, he definitely was now as his dads brought him down from the entry-level to the war room. And then it was into the kitchen, and the halls, and down to the infirmary.

By the time Jack was placed on a bed, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe!

Pain was all he knew.

“Now, come on, Cas! Heal him!”

Castiel rested his palm over Jack’s mangled foot. The golden energy pressed against him, and even in a human body he recognized that energy, that feeling that was his father reaching out to help him. But it didn’t penetrate. Just probed at the multitude of damaged cells.

“I can’t.”

Jack started whining, and Sam held his hand.

“Why not?” Sam asked.

“This is no normal injury. It was done with a weapon of Heaven. He’ll need to heal the way you two did before I came into your lives.”

“Great.”

“That sounds fun,” Dean added.

Jack had started to learn just enough about humanity to know that they were being sarcastic.

Castiel went to hold his hand, while his other two dads got to work on his foot. Jack wasn’t even aware of half the things they did. The only thing he felt in his body was excruciating pain, and aside from that, he was totally disconnected: from himself, from the world.

Jack was looking down at himself as his dads worked and did a very many complicated things.

As his exhaustion reached its peak, a small cup of pink medicine was pushed to his lips. Dean had mentioned giving him pills, but Sam had gently reminded him that Jack didn’t know how to swallow pills yet. He wished he could, because the medicine that went into his mouth was gross enough to make him gag.

Castiel ruffled the hair on the back of his head, and helped set him down. His father’s hand stayed wrapped around his as he fell asleep.

Jack was in agony when he awoke, his foot screaming and thundering like drums pounding deep within a mountain. No one was around. So after taking many forceful deep breaths, and wiping the tears from his eyes, Jack did what his dads surely would and got up out of bed.

_Bad idea. Very bad idea!_

The pain was immense, reminding him of why he’d been lying down in the first place. But Jack grabbed crutches that were next to his bed, and started awkwardly hobbling out of the room.

An embarrassingly long amount of time passed before he made it into the hallway outside the kitchen. And when he did, Dean was there, looking at him in shock.

Jack gave him a weak smile.

Dean immediately put his beer down and rushed over. His hands were out, as if he didn’t know where to put them to help Jack.

“Whoa, hey. Jack, you want help getting into bed?”

Jack went forward just a tiny step, and froze, wincing at the radiating pain.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

Jack didn’t know how to argue, so he tried shoving Dean aside. That made him almost topple over, and Dean grabbed him.

Deciding whether to be angry or thankful was the worst decision he’d had to make in awhile. “Come on, I’ll have Sam get you to bed.”

“I don’t want to go to bed,” Jack whined.

Dean looked him up and down, and his eyes stayed on the cast that went all the way up to his knee.

“Yeah, you do.

“Sammy!”

Barely thirty seconds passed before Sam was entering the room.

“What? What is it?” And then he saw Jack. Jack gave them the grumpiest face he could think of. “Jack, you need your rest.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Come on,” Sam began, “where are you getting that idea from?”

“From you guys.”

Dean turned and looked at Sam, and they just gave each other what might’ve been perplexed looks for quite a long time.

Then Castiel was trying to edge his way in, clearing his throat. He seemed slightly frustrated with his family barring the way into the kitchen, and then he saw Jack. Before Jack could say anything, Castiel had swept him up into his arms, and was taking him down the hall.

“Put me down!” Jack cried.

Dean walked behind, carrying the crutches, and Sam followed.

“Yeah, if you can walk, we’ll have him put you down.”

Jack didn’t know what to do, so he stuck out his tongue.

Sam just gave a shake of his head, but he wasn’t disappointed. He seemed loving in that moment, despite Jack wanting to resist them.

Castiel was at Jack’s room, the one right next to Sam’s, and he placed him on the bed. Dean placed the crutches just beside it. Jack tried to rise, to show them he was fine, and Sam lightly pushed against his chest.

Then his dads were fussing over him, getting him a pillow for his foot, getting what might’ve been way too much ice, a glass of water, and more medicine. Jack didn’t want anymore, especially since the first bit hadn’t helped. So after leaving for a few minutes, Dean came back with— Oh no, was that a needle?

There was golden liquid in it.

“No, really. Sam, Dean, Cas — I’m fine.”

“It’s alright, Jack.”

Jack tried getting up again as Dean came over.

“This is just a little morphine,” Dean said. “Didn’t want to give it to you earlier ‘cause it can get addicting, but I think you need it.”

“Will it…” Jack licked his lips, nervous. “Will it make me sleep?”

“Maybe,” Dean answered.

“It’ll make the pain go away,” Sam filled in.

“At least for a little while,” Castiel added.

The shot wasn’t actually that bad, and in seconds, the lack of pain was making Jack feeling comfortably sleepy.

“Alright, get some rest,” Sam said before lightly patting him on the chest.

“Feel better, kiddo.”

Dean squeezed his shoulder.

Castiel didn’t leave with them. Jack just looked up at him questioningly, even while tiredness dragged at the edges of his mind.

“You’re staying?”

Castiel pat his hand and then went over to the door and put Jack’s desk in front of it, moving the heavy piece of furniture as if it didn’t weigh a single pound.

“Someone’s gotta keep you from trying to be the hero.”

“So you blocked the door?”

“You’re a fighter, Jack,” Castiel told him, as he came to sit by his bed. “And I know you’ll want to get up and out there before you’re ready. Please, just rest.”

Jack nodded.

And then he did just that, even while he thought about how he’d convince Cas to let him to leave his room, and then the bunker, maybe go on another hunt with them. He would rest, for now. But he wasn’t happy about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Only two more of these to go and I'll be a completionist! Woohoo!


End file.
